


Strangers in the Night

by minnabird



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnabird/pseuds/minnabird
Summary: “I had to see you… I had to find out in person if the rumors were true.”Han Solo's back to what he knows best: in the pilot's seat, doing whatever jobs come his way. Alone. He's not thinking about everything he lost when his son became Kylo Ren.And then, someone from another life walks into this one.





	Strangers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tjs_whatnot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/gifts).



The calm of a well-charted hyperlane was the easiest part of any job. As blue and black streaks washed silently past him, Han scrolled idly through lists of needed repairs and parts. A blinking light was still signaling a waiting message, so Han turned the datapad off and leaned back in the pilot’s chair.

He was alone on this one, but it was good to be back in business. This new ship didn’t maneuver as sweetly for him as the Falcon did, but he was adapting. Adapting was what Han did best, after all; the smuggling life still fit him like a well-worn jacket.

An urgent beep drew his eyes to his left, and he frowned. “Motion in the cargo hold?” he muttered, and pushed up out of his chair, hand on his blaster. He prowled silently through the darkened ship, listening through the familiar hums and vibrations for sign of another person on board.

A rustle stilled him as he reached the ladder into the hold, and he threw himself through the open hatch, planning to land on anyone below. The next few moments were a blur of motion as hands seized him and someone’s body shifted under him. He grabbed out, catching a bit of metal and tearing it away with him as he flew past his target and made crashing impact with the ground.

His blaster had gone flying, as well. As he fumbled for it in the dark, panting, the bit of metal he’d dropped caught his eye. It was a circular pin, made of nesting half circles of white and gold.

The moment of distraction was enough for the interloper. They wrenched Han’s arm behind his back in a grip that was just this side of painful and murmured, “You’re a hard man to get a hold of.”

Han relaxed, and the other person’s grip relaxed as well. Quick as a snake, he slithered out of her hold, shouldering her roughly aside and leaping for his blaster. In another moment, he had the blaster pressed to her stomach as his other hand flicked on the lights.

Qi’ra grinned at him, turning the blade just brushing his throat so it caught the light. “You always were quick on your feet.”

“Why aren’t you dead?” Han asked.

He had been pretty sure she was. Crimson Dawn had all but disappeared in the power shifts after the Empire fell, and he hadn’t heard of anyone matching her description since he’d returned to smuggling. But here she was, changed by the years but so familiar. Her still-dark hair was gathered in an elegant twist behind her head, and a dark cloak – it must have been held closed with the pin – spilled off one shoulder to reveal well-tailored clothes beneath. She looked... Well, she looked like she didn’t belong here.

He revised his question, pitching his voice low to cover his shock. “What are you doing on my ship?” 

“I was hoping for a friendly conversation,” Qi’ra said. She shifted, and Han had a split second to decide whether to pull the trigger or relax. Her blade slid soundlessly back into its sheath, and he lowered his blaster, his heart still thrumming in his ears. A quick skim of the room showed him what he’d half-expected: one of his cargo crates lay open and empty.

 _Did I always like women who made me feel like this?_ he wondered as he followed her up the ladder. Once upon a time he would’ve squelched the thought, insisted that obviously, he was in control of the situation. But now, he could only review his life and resign himself once again to the fact that he liked being knocked off his stride.

Qi’ra stopped before he expected her to, not bothering to find a room off the narrow hallway but turning to face him, her eyes tracing his face. His adrenaline was beginning to cool, but something else thumped in his blood. She was so close, suddenly, and he was thrown back to a much younger version of himself, the one who would have laid the galaxy at her feet if he could. 

Whatever she saw in his face, Qi’ra reached up and rested the backs of her fingers against his cheek. “I hired you,” she said quietly. “I had to see you… I had to find out in person if the rumors were true.” Han frowned, and Qi’ra’s mouth tightened briefly. “Your son,” she said. 

He flinched, jerking his head away from her hand. “Don’t,” he said. 

“He’s… Han, _he’s_ the one the First Order are rallying around?”

Han took hold of her arms, meaning to push her away, but a glance into her eyes stilled him. There was sorrow there, and understanding: Qi’ra knew better than most how hard he loved. His past tangled with his present, and left him with the same despair. Sometimes you loved people and they left you anyway. Sometimes they let the world shape them into monsters, and all you could do was watch them go. 

“You’re one to talk,” was what came out of his mouth. 

She was silent a moment. “I deserved that, maybe,” she said finally. “I wanted to live long more than I wanted to live happy, and I didn’t have the heart to tell you.” She pulled away, letting Han have the space he’d been trying to make. “I knew you’d find the happiness I couldn’t, somehow.”

Han swallowed against the ache in his throat. “I did,” he said.

“I know.”

“It couldn’t last,” he said, in a tone that said he’d known it all along and was fine with it. That tone was lying through its teeth. 

“Show me your ship,” QI’ra said. “I always wanted to find out what it would’ve been like to fly with you.”


End file.
